


Imagine Being Loved by Me

by maszy



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Working Together, Bottom Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Carolyn Martens the Matchmaker, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Control, Road Trips, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Singing in the car, Slightly - Freeform, Soft Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Top Eve Polastri, Work trip, dumb gays on a road trip, erotic scar play, soft!villanelle, working together, yes i know that sounds weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maszy/pseuds/maszy
Summary: “Looks like we’re going on a trip, Eve Polastri. How fun,” Villanelle sing-songs, and Eve wishes it wasn’t slightly charming.“How fun,” she repeats, and starts to gather all of her stuff from the table. Villanelle smiles over at her, and Eve almost resents the way her stomach swoops slightly with how radiant it is.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 11
Kudos: 225





	Imagine Being Loved by Me

Working with Villanelle is different than she expected. She doesn’t know what she expected exactly, not in the slightest, but probably not this. 

This being the way Villanelle looks at her in the office. It’s almost unnerving, a constant that Eve now must deal with. It’s nice, sometimes. Makes her almost unbearably warm, a shudder running through her everytime she catches the younger woman doing it. 

Intense is probably the right word. Villanelle makes her feel like the center of the universe, the only important thing in the world. 

“Focus, Villanelle,” Carolyn says, and she sounds so annoyed that Eve nearly lets out a laugh, which earns her a harsh glare from Carolyn. She gives her boss an apologetic smile, and focuses back on the presentation they’re all supposed to be listening to. Which is probably important information, crucial for the mission that is coming up. But Eve can’t focus, especially with the way Villanelle is still staring at her. 

The younger woman smirks at her, and Eve feels herself blush. She forces her attention back on Carolyn, trying her best to listen to whatever information she needs. But she still can’t focus, not when she knows Villanelle is still looking at her, not when she can feel the weight of it. 

She snaps back to the moment when she hears Carolyn mention her name. 

“I’m sorry, what?” she asks, and sends a quick prayer to whatever gods are listening that she hadn’t heard what she thought she had. Because Eve is around eighty percent sure that Carolyn just said she and Villanelle were doing the mission together. The same mission that would take upwards of a week. The same mission that they would need to be in each others presence at nearly every waking moment. 

“You and Villanelle leave tomorrow morning, you’ll get the rest of the information later today, Eve,” Carolyn tells her, as if this isn’t the absolute worst thing that has happened in the world. As if she didn’t just sign a death order for Eve. 

Metaphorically, of course. If Villanelle wanted her dead, she would be by now. Then again, the younger woman had told her that she didn’t want to kill her, even after the unfortunate incident of Eve stabbing her. 

Eve tries not to look like a fish as she gapes at the area that Carolyn had abandoned after quickly disbanding the meeting. Villanelle rolls her chair towards where Eve sits, still wearing that same smirk from earlier. 

“Looks like we’re going on a trip, Eve Polastri. How fun,” Villanelle sing-songs, and Eve wishes it wasn’t slightly charming. 

“How fun,” she repeats, and starts to gather all of her stuff from the table. Villanelle smiles over at her, and Eve almost resents the way her stomach swoops slightly with how radiant it is. 

All of the bruises on the younger woman’s face from Paris are gone, and there is a slight scar near her lip that hasn’t fully faded yet. She looks beautiful, Eve thinks as she stares. She shakes away the thought, standing from her chair. 

The thing about it all is that Eve is still tired. Working with Villanelle is exhausting. Hugo is no help, an almost added headache at times. Jess is a saint, of course, but Kenny can barely look her in the eyes sometimes, some lingering emotions that she can’t delve into currently. 

Villanelle is leaning against the doorway, seemingly waiting on her as she slowly walks over to leave. Today the younger woman is wearing a loose fitting blouse that looks satiny, and a pair of trousers that flow in a similar way to her blouse. Eve wishes she could feel the material, see the designer, see how nice it probably feels on the skin. But she refrains, instead shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, shrugging her bag more onto her shoulder. 

They walk together down the hallway, and Eve wonders what everyone else they work with probably thinks of them. Hugo has made it abundantly clear his opinion, but Eve hasn’t focused too deeply on what everyone else thinks of their obvious connection. Jess doesn’t seem to mind it, a kind presence in the office. Kenny seems to be holding his tongue about it all, his remark to her about her being different still too fresh in her mind, as well as her failed excuses for why she couldn’t just stop. Carolyn seems to just be annoyed, mainly. But that much isn’t out of the ordinary, especially given the amount Eve has done in such a short time. As well as the fact that Villanelle isn’t exactly an easy person to work with, similar to a child let loose in a store. A force to be reckoned with, always bored, always curing this boredom with whatever she finds funny. 

Villanelle chatters about something that Eve can’t fully follow, but she thinks is either a movie plot or one of the countless murders the younger woman has performed. It is interesting, but Eve can’t focus on it too deeply, still thinking about the trip they’re going on. 

Sometimes it almost seems too normal. The way that Villanelle talks with such enthusiasm for things, the way she smiles at Eve with such brightness, the way everything seemed to fall into place when she’s around. Eve tries not to think about that fact too much, tries not to let everything crumble any further than it needs to. 

But as Villanelle looks over at her, still speaking, Eve can’t help but feel that it has already spiraled out of her control. 

\--

They end up taking a car, Eve driving while Villanelle kicks her feet up in the passenger seat. Carolyn had given the details to what they were doing with as much enthusiasm as she always had, which is to say none, and then promptly left them alone after giving a slight warning to Villanelle about following rules.

Villanelle spends the first thirty minutes of the ride asleep after giving Eve a playful warning of keeping her hands to herself. Eve uses the time to look at the younger woman in glances. The way her lips look, the way she looks so relaxed, so peaceful. Her hair hangs loose today, and it looks so soft that Eve grips the wheel to avoid sliding her hands into it. 

When Villanelle wakes up after someone on the road honks, she immediately delves into conversation. 

“Eve, this is boring. Road trips are supposed to be fun,” Villanelle whines, and Eve really wish she didn’t find everything the younger woman did so charming. Complaining aside, she is right. The silence is beginning to eat away at Eve, and without the opportunity to look at Villanelle’s sleeping form, there is nothing but the traffic to look at. 

“This is a business trip, Oksana,” she replies back, aiming for a dry tone to avoid sounding anything like she feels. 

She hears a scoff from the passenger seat, and something similar to affection curls in her stomach. Or maybe it's annoyance, both emotions seem to run together when it comes to Villanelle. 

Now that she is awake, Villanelle is restless. At first, she talks. About anything and everything, stuff that Eve can’t follow because the topic changes so quickly. Then there is the attempts to play games. Silly things, like who can find the first red car, or a game of what seems like movie trivia, Eve listening intently to catch which films Villanelle likes. 

They have no theme, the younger woman listing everything from romance movies to thrillers that she disdains, complaining that none of the spy ones are realistic at all. 

“Do you think we’ll have time to watch a movie when we get there?” Villanelle asks, and it sounds so similar to when she asked Eve to stay in the Parisian apartment, partly hopeful, partly vulnerable. Eve looks over, nodding slightly when she finds Villanelle looking at her. 

Villanelle smiles, bright and happy, similar to a kid who finally got the toy they’ve wanted. Eve quickly looks away, afraid to look too long, too deeply. 

The young assassin turns on the radio, turning the channel until she finds something she likes. It sounds like pop, a bright tune that Eve likes despite herself. When the song ends, another comes on, and this one is different. Still pop, but now it has more specific lyrics. Ones about love, and when she looks over, almost surprised that Villanelle is listening to it, she finds the younger woman mouthing along to the lyrics. 

The lip syncing turns into humming, and then into quiet singing. Villanelle can’t carry the tune, but Eve still enjoys the way it sounds despite it. Villanelle must know the song too, considering she sings all the lyrics in time. Eve likes the way that the action causes something to unfurl in her chest, warm and soft. It almost seems out of place, like it shouldn’t be there. She can’t help but smile at the continued singing, and for the first time in a while, she allows herself this. This part of her that expands at everything Villanelle does, the part of her that wants so deeply, everything in her being yearning for more. 

Villanelle sings along until the song ends, and Eve tries not to look too happy at the fact. Because it really shouldn’t make her as happy as it does to find out that Villanelle enjoys shitty pop love songs, and even better, she sings along to them. 

The rest of the trip is spent with Villanelle either napping or talking above the sound of the radio. Eve is fine with it, enjoying the tidbits into Villanelle’s life it offers her. 

When they arrive at the hotel they’re supposed to stay in, Villanelle pulls a face that Eve can’t help but laugh at. The expression is somewhere between disgust and despair, and Villanelle glares at her as they walk into the reception. The hotel isn’t actually that bad, but it surely isn’t what Villanelle is probably accustomed to. 

Eve checks them in, Carolyn having made their reservations some time yesterday. Except, the girl at the reception desk tells her that there is only one room. Eve stares at her in disbelief, turning back to find Villanelle standing near the stairs, looking bored. But she knows that it isn’t a mistake. Carolyn doesn’t make mistakes, everything she does calculated in some way or another. Maybe they’re sharing a room because of the money they’ll save, or maybe because they’ll need to spend nearly all of the time here together anyways. 

Eve accepts the keycard with a smile, trying her best not to let the feeling in the pit of her stomach show on her face. 

Villanelle tilts her head at her when she walks over, but says nothing as they get on the elevator and Eve pressed the button for their floor. 

The first thing she notices is that the room has one bed. The second thing is that Villanelle looks too excited at the prospect. Eve sighs, and puts her suitcase near the dresser, beelining for the bathroom. 

She stays there for longer than is strictly necessary, then splashes cold water on her face to knock herself out of the trance she’s in. 

When she enters the room again, Villanelle is lounging on the bed watching the television. She wears an expression that Eve can’t describe, like she is trying to hold onto every detail that she possible can. Eve doesn’t know the name of the movie that plays on the screen, and instead of asking, she quietly sits on the side of the bed that the younger woman doesn’t occupy, pulling her phone out of her pocket. 

There is a message from Carolyn, but nothing else. Eve doesn’t know how she feels about the lack of communication from Niko. The distance had grown so much between them since the school incident that Eve doesn’t even think she has a real husband anymore. He sleeps on the couch, and she’s almost sure one day she’ll wake up and all traces of his presence will be gone. 

“Are you waiting for Mustache to call you?” Villanelle asks, turning her attention away from the screen. 

Eve rolls her eyes, looking towards the younger woman with a raised eyebrow. Villanelle looks at her innocently. 

“I was just asking. I am being polite,” Villanelle tells her, her tone still serious. Eve laughs at the remark, and the younger assassin looks at her with mock offence. 

“I can be polite, Eve. I have perfect manners,” she tells her, and Eve laughs again, the idea of Villanelle being prim and proper and boring not even becoming an imagination her brain can produce. 

“Sure, Villanelle. As if you could ever listen to someone else,” Eve tells her, and something flashes in Villanelle’s eyes that Eve can’t describe. She turns back to the television, not wanting to maintain eye contact any longer. 

“I could show you if you want,” Villanelle says, and the way her voice curls around the words makes something in Eve’s stomach flip, her heart lodging firmly in her throat. She feels the blush on her skin, and from the corner of her eye she can see the younger woman smirking. She breathes in deeply, not trusting her voice for a second. 

“I’ll pass, thanks,” she tells her, and she hopes her voice doesn’t shake as much as she thinks that it does. 

“Your loss, Eve. I am a wonderful lover.” 

Eve nearly chokes, but thankfully her dignity stays in place as Villanelle finally looks back at the screen to the movie she had been watching previously. Their actual task begins tomorrow, Carolyn sending them down a day earlier than needed for no obvious reason. She lounges on the bed, trying to stay a reasonable distance from the other woman. 

Eve doesn’t know how she falls asleep, but when she startles awake, the room is empty. For a second, she panics. Because Villanelle is under strict instructions from Carolyn not to leave the hotel unless Eve is with her. The television is off, and the side of the bed that Villanelle had occupied empty. 

Then she notices that she hears the showering running, too preoccupied with a growing sense of panic before to recognize the noise. She leans back against the pillows once again. 

The door to the bathroom opens as she stretches, her back popping from the odd position she had slept in. Then, Villanelle is back, completely naked except for a towel that is wrapped around her. Eve quickly looks away, closing her eyes in an attempt to help fight off the blush she knows is already coming. 

When she hears the soft sound of cloth hitting the floor, she looks back again. Then the blush is back in full force, because Villanelle is standing there naked, pulling out her clothes from her luggage. In her hand, she is holding a lacy set of red underwear, and Eve does her best to ignore the swoop in her stomach at the sight. 

She doesn’t even realize she's staring until Villanelle turns around after putting on the matching underwear and tilts her head at her, smirking like she’s the cat that caught the canary. But Eve focuses in on the scar on her torso instead, the one she had put there. Eve briefly has the impulse to traverse the distance between them and feel it. 

“Enjoying the view?” she asks, tone slow and soft, like honey. Eve shakes herself out of the trance, focusing back on the other woman’s face. 

“I… uh… Sorry,” she says, and looks up, trying to avoid looking back at the mostly naked form standing just in front of her. 

“Do you want to touch it?” Villanelle asks her, and her breathing is just slightly off balance. Eve’s heart is beating a staccato rhythm in her chest. She doesn’t think about it before she nods. 

Villanelle closes the distance between them, crawling down the length of the bed until she is sitting in front of Eve. She looks giddy, a kid in a candy shop. Eve looks at her, then at the scar. Her fingers tremble when she reaches out, her fingertips tingling when they come into contact with the mark. It’s longer than she expected, and Villanelle’s stomach trembles slightly where she is touched. Eve breathes out slowly, pressing her hand against the wound. 

She had done that. One moment of such anger, then weeks spent in guilt and a feeling of manic desperation that clung to her. The guilt came nearly immediately after the knife had been pushed in, quick and sickening. Then panic had settled over her. First as she pulled the knife out, then as she rushes to fix the mistake only to find the other woman gone. 

Her eyes flutter shut. She feels like she’s at the top of a rollercoaster, just about to fall. 

When she opens her eyes again, Villanelle is staring at her with such intensity that Eve feels like it weighs her down. Before she can stop herself, she is straddling Villanelle, kissing her. 

Villanelle’s hands fidget by her hips, then they slip into her hair. Eve sighs into the kiss, and everything comes to a halt there. The world stops, as if standing on the precipice of something great. 

When she tries to bring her hand away from the wound, VIllanelle’s hand slips out of her hair and grasps her wrist, keeping it in place. She brings her other hand up, tracing Villanelle’s jawline. It’s almost too much, Eve feels vaguely like she may pass out. The intensity of the interaction, the tension that seems so close to crushing her. 

“You did this to me,” Villanelle tells her in a cracked whisper, and it sounds fragile, breathy. Eve closes her eyes, nodding her head in agreement, sure that she couldn’t trust her voice. She did that. She had stabbed Villanelle.

She digs her fingers a little harder into the wound, and Villanelle moans at the pressure. Eve wants so much that it overwhelms her. She leans in, biting down slightly on Villanelle’s neck. She receives a moan that is almost melodic, and Eve wishes she could hear that sound forever. 

Eve pushes the younger woman down onto the bed fully, watching with rapt attention as Villanelle’s hair fans out around her, her chest rising in slightly uneven breaths. Eve wants desperately, something undefined in her chest. She climbs onto Villanelle, straddling her after she slips her pants down her legs ungracefully. 

She pulls her own shirt off, throwing it in the direction of the door. Her bra is a muted color, matching her panties, and she wishes she had brought something more chic. The thought flies out of her mind when she looks down at Villanelle. The look she is receiving is something that she can only approximate to awe, almost worshipping. Villanelle’s hands find her hips. 

She grinds down on the body beneath her, groaning with the friction she gets. She pulls Villanelle up, just enough to get her bra off, throwing it in the same direction as her shirt and pants. Eve leans down, biting down on the soft flesh of Villanelle’s breast, getting a moan that shifts into a moan when Eve takes a nipple into her mouth. 

VIllanelle’s hips buck upwards, and Eve leans back, getting a whine at the motion. 

“No more moving,” she tells the younger woman, and is only slightly surprised when she receives a nod in response. 

“Say it,” Eve tells her, refusing to move until she hears it. She wants to see how far this power will go, just how willing to give Villanelle is. 

“I won’t move,” Villanelle says. Her tone is almost desperate, and Eve rewards her by going back to her previous ministrations.

She moves downwards, her hands exploring every inch she explores as she goes. When she finally gets to where Villanelle needs her most, she keeps going, smirking at the whine she gets in protest. The sound shoots to her core, and she pushes Villanelle’s thighs apart, enjoying the way the younger woman looks beneath her. Open, and ready, and incredibly desperate. 

Eve pauses as she lays in between Villanelle’s thighs, savoring the way the younger woman is trying so desperately to stay still. 

Eve traces the outline of the lace panties she wears before wandering down to her thighs. They’re strong, sturdy. Lean muscle that coils beneath her fingertips, and Eve wonders if she has ever killed someone with her thighs. The thought makes her stomach drop open. She bites one, hard enough to leave a bruise, kissing it soothingly after. Villanelle moans loudly, and Eve wants to swallow that sound, keep it for herself forever. 

“Eve,” Villanelle whispers, cracking and wanting. Eve smiles, dragging her fingers back to the lace panties, feeling the wetness that soaks them. Villanelle nearly bucks again, but Eve holds her down with one of her palms. She knows that she isn’t stronger, but something about the way Villanelle immediately stops, letting herself be held down makes Eve feel like she is floating away. 

She slips the lace down slowly, admiring the way it contrasts Villanelle’s skin. Her skin is smooth, beauty marks scattered along her thighs and stomach. Eve wants to kiss each of them, but with the way Villanelle keeps whining softly in the back of her throat, she doubts either of them could last that long. 

Instead, she drags her fingers to the wetness she knows is there. She passes her fingers through it slowly, teasingly soft, just enough to gather the wetness on her finger. She things briefly of tasting her, finally. Then, there is a better idea. Villanelle is looking up at her with half lidded eyes, pupils dilated. 

She holds her finger out, reaching up the length of the body beneath her, and Villanelle is instantly on it, licking it clean. Slowly, like it is something to be savored, then she nips slightly at Eve’s finger, playful. Eve sighs out, smirking at the action. 

She slips one finger in slowly, desperate to finally get what she wants. Villanelle clenches around her, already slick and ready. 

“More, Eve… please,” Villanelle says, and Eve complies, sliding another finger into her to join the first. She curves her fingers, trying to find the spot to make the sensations more intense. She knows that she finds it when Villanelle lets out a loud moan, trying to gain more friction as she rolls her hips. Eve pushes her hand down again, locking eyes to make sure the message to stay still is received. 

She leans down, and the smell of Villanelle is something that could easily become addicting. Then her tongue is on the younger woman’s clit, and Villanelle nearly lets out a scream. The sound shoots to Eve’s core, and she watches the way that Villanelle reacts. 

She is a revelation, too. There is a flush that extends from her cheeks to her chest, and there is a light sheen of sweat covering her. Her body is warm, almost scalding where they touch. Eve increases the speed of her fingers, licking Villanelle’s clit slow then fast, never allowing for her to get accustomed to a certain speed. She adds another finger when she hears Villanelle whisper her name, almost deliriously. She receives a loud moan in response, and she moans herself. Villanelle grinds down slightly at the vibrations, moaning again. 

“Eve, please,” Villanelle babbles, close to the edge. “I’m so close, please, please, please.”

She repeats the words over and over, an everlasting string of her name, various pleas, and pet names that make Eve’s chest expand. 

Eve speeds up her ministrations, ready to see the way that Villanelle fully unravels above her. 

“Cum for me, baby,” she tells her, and then Villanelle is arching off the bed, clenching around Eve’s fingers. 

Eve works her through it slowly, enjoying the way Villanelle softly whimpers as she comes down off the high of the orgasm. She looks beautiful like this, flushed and content. She looks beautiful all the time, Eve corrects herself, climbing up her body to lean above her. She leans down, kissing the woman beneath her. 

She smiles into the kiss when Villanelle makes a noise in the back of her throat, similar to a purr. 

Then Villanelle is slipping her hand between them, into Eve’s underwear with a quickness, as if she is desperate. Two fingers slip in quickly, and Eve is so wet that they are met with no resistance. She flips them over, and then Eve is on her back, Villanelle leaning over her. 

When she had said she knew what she was doing, Eve knows she was right now. Villanelle is an expert, curling her fingers perfectly, rubbing her clit with her thumb. Eve moans, refrains from biting her lip when the other woman shakes her head at the action. 

She cums so fast she barely has time to prepare. She was on the edge already, and when Villanelle bites her neck lightly, she is pushed off. It hits in waves, and her body spasms slightly. The younger woman helps work her through it until Eve pushes her hand away in over-stimulation. 

Villanelle licks her fingers clean, staring Eve in the eyes. It sends a pulse of heat through her, and she pulls her down for a kiss, tasting herself on the other woman’s lips. 

There is a moment of silence where they both bask in the afterglow, Villanelle shifting to lay down next to Eve, their legs slightly tangled on top of the sheets. There is some emotions stirring in Eve’s heart that feels like it may choke her. 

Villanelle grabs her hand suddenly, her skin soft and her grasp light. She pulls her hand to sit on the scar, interlacing their fingers with a gentleness that makes Eve feel warm in a new way. 

Villanelle pulls the cover over them with her free hand, intent to keep their fingers laced together. Eve isn’t fully surprised that the younger woman is a cuddler. Eve curls slightly into the warmth of her body, allowing herself this small thing. 

Her mind is slightly fuzzy, like she’s on a cloud. She shifts her head again, this time allowing herself to move her head onto Villanelle’s chest. Eve can hear her heartbeat this way, feel the steady rise and fall of her chest.

Villanelle falls asleep before her, murmuring a playful warning to not stab her before drifting off to sleep. She doesn’t snore, but every so often she makes a noise that reminds Eve so much of a kitten that she nearly laughs. It is one of the most endearing things she has ever heard. 

It only takes her a few minutes to fall asleep too, and before she does, she is almost sure that she hears Villanelle say her name in her sleep. 

Eve dreams of Villanelle, and for the first time in a long time, she sleeps well.

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this written since April, but I just finished editing. So there is that. This is literally just me pushing all of the things I want into (1) fic: top Eve, bottom Villanelle, and a gay road trip. 
> 
> Tumblr is Maszyc if you wanna say something about it.


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